


God is a Woman; I Found Her in a Lover

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Moral Ambiguity, Religious Conflict, Season 1 centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 16:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Kala comes to Wolfgang often when she's praying, or maybe it's the other way around.





	God is a Woman; I Found Her in a Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the songs "Coming Down" by Halsey and "God is a Woman" by Ariana Grande, which I definitely recommend listening to while reading this!

Kala comes to Wolfgang often when she's praying, or maybe it's the other way around. Regardless, he thinks it's odd. 

Most times Kala doesn't even notice he's there, too caught up in her musings, and he'll return to his own city, far cooler than Mumbai, without her even shifting position as she kneels before Ganesha. Wolfgang has to admit he admires her dedication, she goes to the temple every day —  when her schedule allows, and she feels guilty whenever it doesn't . She arrives with baskets of gifts and after placing them ceremoniously around the already heavily decorated shrine, she'll speak. It's more open than he's ever known her to be, even though he lives in her head, and when she prays for her family, both the one she has and the one she's soon to be apart of, he feels as though he's invading a moment meant for something far greater than him. 

That thought alone strikes him off guard. Wolfgang is not a religious man. There is nothing “greater than him” because he is all that he knows, and to put so much faith into something that could very likely only restrict him from pleasure has always sounded foolish. If there's a heaven, he doubts he'll get into it now, no matter how much he repents and dedicates himself to a deity. He's murdered a man, and he’s steadily ignoring that it was his own father. Referring to him simply as a man, a monster, a rapist and a molester makes him feel more detached from the role he should have played, and that's how Wolfgang wants it to be. He wants to remember that Anton deserved it.

Still, Wolfgang is a murderer. Isn't that the cardinal sin? 

    “If we want to be better, we can be,” Kala says, or maybe thinks; regardless, her words echo in his mind and he turns, although she's nowhere to be found. She's continents away, as she's always been this whole time, frustratingly, and sometimes Wolfgang hates this connection thing. He's never been good at waiting, and waiting for Kala is like hoping for rain in the desert; a drought of relief and pent up passion that he knows exists, but not under the same sky as him. Not even in the same world, it seems.

Kala is speaking to herself, to Ganesha, and Wolfgang thinks he might be infiltrating her thoughts. For that he feels a brief pang of guilt for intruding on something holy — well, something holy to her, at least— but he can’t help but wonder if she's referring to him. She's contemplative, pondering, wishing she was better: at coming to the temple, at handling stress, at being there for her family, at allowing Rajan into her life. There's so much she wants to be, and she's more than she knows, so it almost makes Wolfgang scoff at her pensiveness. She's doing better by simply wanting to be better. She's got seven other consciences clambering around in her mind and she's still making to-do lists and getting up every morning without hitting the snooze button even once, forget being a more present friend to a long lost cousin who hasn't even bothered to reach out to her in months. 

It's not laughable, though, her kindness. It's only respectable.  

Wolfgang wonders if any other sensates out there have ever turned to religion after their connection. He could imagine it, how there might be a need to seek out a higher explanation for what seems earthly impossible. He's never liked that word, though— _impossible_ _—_  because it's happening, these connections, and it's not likely or expected but it's occurring, so it's to be dealt with, for better or for worse, like everything in life.

Wolfgang especially dislikes the word when it flickers through Kala's mind, swimming alongside dreams of him and memories of Rajan, reflecting on a life she always hoped for, wondering about a life she never expected to want, and imagining an escape, a rendezvous, a fantasy, but no, that’s impossible.

He doesn’t say anything in response to that, even though he wants to. She stands up and walks away from Ganesha, and he does too.

  
  


Thank God for gravity, he'd said, smooth and effortless and reeling her in on that day in the cafe (and at the temple, again), but he hadn't meant it. Not really, at least.

Instead, he’d thought  _ thank gravity for us,  _ because there had to be something deeper, something more than a man on the clouds pushing buttons and creating organisms for the hell of it. There was something connecting them, something drawing her soft brown eyes to his lips, and making her press in closer to the point where their fingertips brush and Wolfgang knows, for the first time —  although he hadn’t had too many doubts before— that Kala Dandekar is real. She exists somewhere in the world, living and breathing and feeling things, and she’s feeling him, of all people. 

Maybe it’s just nature. Maybe it’s all random, maybe it’s just luck of the draw, maybe it’s just chaos and she’s a diamond in the rough. His luck is shitty, always has been, but he’ll bet on it any day of the week before he commends his entire existence to a spirit in the sky. 

After all, he was the one who strangled his father. He was the one who cracked Steiner’s safe. He was the one who pushed himself to survive, to swim faster, to run longer until he no longer ached through shaky breaths at the image of blood and rope.  _ He _ did it, no one else, and to put his own life in the hands and honor of something that isn’t even real just sounds like a way to diminish his credit for the stability he’s earned, for himself and for no one else. 

  
  


He does wonder about God, sometimes, though. It'll happen on sleepless nights when he's intoxicated and burnt out, reflective thoughts that are so deep he sometimes wonders if they're his own —  and this was before he had other people's thoughts in his head. It’ll happen fleetingly over dinner when a biker on the street will hit a bump and curse Jesus' name, loud enough for Wolfgang to hear, and he’ll wonder if it's a reflex, just like it is for himself and Felix, or if that random stranger with a bruised knee really expects God to save them from taking a wrong turn and steering directly into oncoming traffic. And if they did, then what? Would they meet their savior at a pair of golden gates and be told that their practically comical, untimely demise was always in their destiny and their earthly suffering was over?

Religion feels like a currency for the next life, and Wolfgang thinks the currency on earth is difficult enough. 

To Wolfgang, the idea of heaven is more ludicrous than the idea of a higher power. He's self aware enough to know the reasoning behind that likely lies in the fact that someday he'll have to go there —  or to the alternative, or to nowhere at all.

He wonders where he'll end up often, but this time, when he parks his car at Sergei’s gate and pulls a gun from the glovebox, a wave of nausea pulses through him, mixed with a dark kind of thrill all targeted towards the possibility, the likely truth, that he'll find out today.

But Kala's beside him and he doesn't think he'll want heaven, even if he's allowed in, if she isn't there. 

_ She deserves better than this cruel world, _ he thinks briefly, and she answers his thought without any hesitation. 

_ I deserve you. _

He shakes his head, and he’s feeling sorry for himself, something he never does.  _ No, you don't. _

But then he's kissing her, and she's kissing him back and he knows he doesn't want heaven, doesn't need it —  except actually, maybe, he's in it now because her hand comes up to his cheek and he shivers. It's surreal, her cool smooth skin on his burning body, and when he pulls away, painfully slow, he tastes her breath. Mindlessly he thinks, there is a god: her name is Kala Dandekar.

She blinks back tears and it hurts to look at her. He inhales deep, the air around him stale and bittersweet, and then he’s suddenly alone. He puts the car into drive. 

  
  


When she, his god, Kala, appears again barely half an hour later, reining him in and fitting her lips against his one more time and building him a goddamn  _ bomb, _ he thinks she might be the devil too. 

And this is a kind of religion he can get behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr @ sweeterthankarma if you're missing these soulmates as much as I am.


End file.
